In a Blue Jungle
by Strut
Summary: A first meeting in the jungles of Peru. A gen story.


**Disclaimer:** This is for fun, no profit made and no harm is intended to those who own the rights to the "Sentinel".

The setting is Peru, long before Jim and Blair meet. This is my first attempt at a "Sentinel" story.

Thanks to K-Lyn, Kreek and Epony for their support.

**Warnings:** Two small cusswords and spirit critters.

**In a Blue Jungle  
**By Strut

Exhausted, Captain Jim Ellison panted and clutched his aching ribs with one arm as he looked around the small clearing. Days ago the copter had made quite a mess when it crashed, shredding the once pristine beauty of the thick green canopy of the jungle. The limbs that hadn't been brought down in the initial crash now hung twisted and swaying gently in the occasional breeze like tattered lace. Every so often there was the sound of snapping and popping when one would break off completely and to drop to the ground.

There was a small hole in the verdant ceiling and during the day beams of sunlight shone down into the small break. At night he could see a few stars. Catching his breath, he sighed heavily and shifted his eyes from the damaged jungle to the cause of said damage, the burned and twisted wreckage of the helicopter. Sadly, it would never fly again and its radio was trashed.

Finally Jim forced himself to look at the seven mounds of earth. Four of the mounds had been dug that first day. A new one had been added each day after that. He dropped his eyes to his hands, blistered and caked with dirt from having just finished burying the last of his team. Numb, he tossed the small Army issue shovel in the direction of the copter, not caring where it landed.

He was completely alone now. He was The Lone Ranger. His snicker quickly turned into a sob, which aggravated his damaged ribs and other injuries. Working hard to regain control, he carefully wrapped his arms around his chest to support the bound ribs. The binding wasn't as tight as it should have been, but it was a tough to do a good job when there wasn't anyone else to help.

His other wounds –mostly cuts and burns- remained uncovered and untreated. Most were infected. Over the past few days he had used the meager medical supplies while attempting to keep the others alive. Now there was nothing left to use on his own injuries. But he wasn't upset about it. He would have gladly died if it would have saved any one of them.

Feeling exposed in the tiny clearing, he slowly dragged himself back to the helicopter, his wounds throbbing with pain. He was out of water, out of food, and if a rescue party didn't come soon, out of luck.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he stared out at the mounds of dirt. He'd done his best to save them. And obviously his best wasn't nearly good enough. Alone, he allowed himself to scream his sorrow and frustration as the world around him slowly darkened and unconsciousness pulled at him. As he slid under, his eyes closed on a jungle that –strangely- had gone from green to blue.

XXXX

Blair Sandburg stood outside the medicine man's teepee and adjusted his loin cloth, briefly fretting that something might, well, fall out. His adventurous mother's travels had brought them here and he dove headfirst and wholeheartedly into the Native American culture.

He loved it. Every time, every culture, was a fascinating adventure. Blair could easily see himself doing this for the rest of his life. Learning about new people and places. Today he was going to embark on his first vision quest. Naomi done it and then had pressed him to try. He'd spent the better part of the last week getting ready for this day by fasting and meditating. Now he was ready. He took a deep breath and entered the tent. It was now or never.

Leaping Buck, the local medicine man, bade him to sit on a mat by the small fire where Blair sat cross-legged. The smell of sage was heavy in the air. The old man spoke and young Sandburg followed the man's instructions and after what seemed like forever, he felt himself slipping into a dream state.

XXXX

The young wolf trotted through a blue tinted world. The odd color of his world didn't bother him. He didn't really notice it, for he always trusted his sharp ears and sensitive nose over his eyes. And right now, his nose was telling him there was something strange in the indigo jungle. Curious, he paused and sniffed the air.

The scent was intriguing. He inhaled again, pulling the smell over his olfactory nerves. There was something nearby and that thing was–

sniff Not a bird.

sniff It was an animal.

sniff A predator.

One that was injured and sick – judging from the infection tainted odor that was in the air. The young wolf looked up the trail that led away from the smell and stepped in that direction. He might not be an adult, but he was certainly old enough to know better then to unnecessarily tangle with other predators, especially sick, injured ones.

This was even more so since he was alone. Besides, there was very little to gain from such an encounter. And he was certainly not hungry enough to finish it off for food.

He turned and ambled up the path, knowing –somehow- that he needed to continue onward, to find a new place to live, fit in, a pack to belong to. Alone was not good. Alone was… alone, and he _was_ a very social animal.

A gentle breeze fluttered leaves and ferns around him. The scent was carried with it, almost as if it was following him. It curled around his nostrils and tugged lightly at his senses. He froze in place, one paw in the air above the dirt game trail. The smell eased by him, coaxed by a lazy puff of wind. He looked back over his shoulder. It couldn't hurt to just take a little _look_ at the other animal, could it? It wasn't that far and then he would be back on his way.

Mind made up, he trailed the scent back to its source, carefully keeping himself down wind and hidden by the dense foliage. The young male wolf approached cautiously, the scent of the injured predator strengthened until, peering through the leaves, he spotted the source of the intriguing odor.

It was big, black and feline. It was much bigger than he was and the young wolf almost left, but stopped when his eyes caught the amber glint of the cat's eyes upon him. The lids were low, hooding the pain and illness dulled orbs. Its massive head rested on its equally large paws. Its claws were sheathed. The jaguar did not blink, nor did it move. The creature was breathing fast and shallow and its eyes remained locked on the young wolf.

The wolf tilted his head from side to side and tested the air again as it puzzled over the great cat. The stench of infection was strong. If this was a prey animal, it would be the one that his pack would bring down. But this wasn't prey and he wasn't hungry. Well, not enough to want to attempt kill and eat the thing.

Still, it was a rival predator and if is survived its wounds, it would eventually compete with him for food. That was _if_ the young wolf chose to stay in this area. Instinct nudged at him to finish off the big cat. If he were with a pack right now, that's exactly what would happen -elimination of a predatory rival- to help ensure the continued existence of the pack. Only, he wasn't with his pack anymore. And this wasn't his territory.

He unconsciously let out a little whine, unsure of what to do.

The big jaguar slowly lifted its head; it seemed to take a great deal of effort to do so. It growled, low and deep. Almost as if it understood the younger creature's indecision and sought to discourage an attack.

Off in the distance, a strange coughing growl erupted, startling the young wolf. He backed into the clearing as his nose and ears scanned for the source of the disturbance. He suddenly felt very alone. His eyes slid to the cat's, it too, had looked to the sound, but after it did some hard sniffing, seemed to dismiss it.

The young wolf edged closer to where the cat lay. If the feline wasn't alarmed, the sound couldn't be much of a threat. Could it?

He turned his attention back to the clearing, where he could now clearly see the space wasn't a natural break in the foliage. He paused to cautiously look it over. The undergrowth had been unnaturally torn and shredded with bits and hunks of strange debris and new, odd scents littering the area. His sensitive lupine nose was positively itching with the odors of things he'd never smelled before, coupled with the more familiar ones of blood, infection, urine, fear, pain, death and a nearly overwhelming sorrow.

Several beings had recently died here and the black jaguar was very sad about it. It was a male cat, so it couldn't be upset over the death of its young. The wolf sneezed several times and again tipped his head from side to side, pondering the mystery of a _feline_ who seemed to _care_ about the deaths of others. It seemed to be more of a lupine-like thing. He tilted his head once more, pondering the notion.

He could feel its gaze on him as it was watched him from its resting place. The cat lay on the churned earth with one whole side protected by the largest twisted piece of wreckage.

The young wolf edged forward, curiosity luring him closer to the big predator. It was as if the cat's sadness, its pain, its –aloneness- was calling to him.

Strangely, it also felt as if he'd found something that he didn't know he was looking for.

The black jaguar lifted its head, and then laboriously pushed itself in to a sitting position. Once there, it dropped its ears and hissed loudly, giving the intruding young wolf a good look at its impressively large and sharp incisors.

The wolf paused, confused as to what to do next. Heed the lonely call, or leave the area?

A series of snaps and cracks split the air and a branch crashed to the ground a few feet away from him.

Startled, the young wolf scooted away and in his haste, he tripped over his too-large-for-his-body paws and stepped on something furry and round. Lightning fast, he received a hard swat to the flank. He yelped and swung his hindquarters away from the cat. Their eyes met and he quickly averted his, flattening his ears off to the side, tucking his tail and lowering his body, broadcasting -through body language- that he was meant no offence.

The big cat growled half-heartedly, glanced at its tail, checking it for damage before it carefully shifted its gaze away. It made no move to pursue or to press the issue.

Darting a short distance away, the young wolf quickly checked his flank for damage, only to find a few hairs out of place. The cat had batted him with a paw, but its claws had remained sheathed. The wolf snuck a look at the jaguar. It was watching him again with hooded eyes, holding his gaze. After a few seconds, its eyelids slowly slid down. The big head bobbled a few times, and then slowly the cat slumped to the ground, dropping its head to rest on its paws. It appeared to be sleeping.

The wolf crept close and listened, giving the big animal a cautious sniff. The jaguar was unconscious. He should leave, the young lupine realized. But the thought of going on alone, with odd, threatening sounds in the jungle was -unappealing. There were other predators lurking about and he was without his pack, and therefore, easy prey.

Knowing that other beasts would be leery of approaching this strange place, with its odd scents and the presence of the big cat might act as a deterrent. The wolf figured that this might even be a relatively safe place to rest. The cat wasn't part of his pack, but it was another set of eyes, ears and nose to see, hear or scent trouble.

Feeling tired after his travels, the young wolf yawned widely and moved nearer the twisted wreckage so nothing could sneak up behind him. He took care to stay out of paw-striking distance of the cat. Scratching a little at the dirt, he next turned several tight circles and curled into a loose ball on the ground. He gave into the urge to doze.

XXXX

A low growl from the black cat woke the wolf. He lifted his head and scanned the area with ears, nose and eyes. The jungle was the same color of blue as it had before, so it was impossible to tell if it were day or night. The jaguar rumbled again and the sound tapered off into a hiss. To the wolf, the tone was different than when the cat had directed at him, but he was unable to put a paw on just _how_ it was different.

There was a soft snap of a twig and then a large golden spotted jaguar stepped boldly out into the clearing. A quick sniff from the young wolf told him that it was a young adult female. Her eyes were locked onto the black jaguar's. The wolf slowly got to his feet, instinct screamed at him to leave. Fight or flight.

He edged away from the cats, not liking the odds. Not that they seemed to be particularly friendly towards each other. The wolf had nearly made it to the relative safety of the blue jungle when the female jaguar bounded over to land in front of him. He cautiously backed away from her and she moved to cut him off again.

Several repeats of this and the young wolf found himself herded back to the wreckage. With the twisted metal behind him, the injured cat to the side and the new arrival in front of him, he was trapped. Flight was now out.

Fight was his only option now. And it didn't look good, for it was two large adult felines against one adolescent wolf. They had mouths full of fangs and paws bristling with sharp claws. He only had teeth, oversized paws with dirt-dulled nails, and his wit. He panted rapidly, stressed, knowing he was in for a battle he couldn't possibly win.

But that didn't mean he wasn't going to try.

The young wolf carefully divided his attention between the cats. The female stared, unblinking, at him. She appeared to be waiting for something.

The black jaguar slowly –and for the first time since the wolf had seen him – got to his feet. His large golden eyes swung back and forth from the female, to the young wolf and back again. His expression was watchful, but neutral.

Feeling the pressure, the young wolf tried once again to step away from the pair. The spotted jaguar snarled and slapped a paw, with claws exposed, at him. He jumped back, barely avoiding the blow. However, the move put him closer to the big black cat.

The wolf gave a worried whine, knowing that if he ran, it would be the last thing he'd do, since it would trigger an all-out attack. Instead he lunged at the female, snapping his teeth. It was a bluff, but it could work. He'd once seen a determined rabbit make one of his pack members back off. It wasn't expected that a rabbit attack. That other wolf gave up after several minutes of being pursued by a thoroughly pissed off bunny.

The young wolf knew this wasn't about him being food. This was about him –a predator- being in a rival predator's territory. And judging from the female's reaction to him, her's.

Suddenly the female leapt at him and when she was close enough, he snapped at her, snagging an ear. She yowled and batted him with a swift paw strike, this one connecting with his shoulder. The impact flung the young wolf into the male jaguar, knocking them both off their feet.

The big male recovered first, gracefully leaping to his feet. He snarled at the wolf. The female joined in, hissing in fury as she pummeled the young wolf with a flurry of slashing paw strikes.

The wolf yelped as he rolled, trying desperately to get to his feet, knowing that he had no chance at all on the ground. While doing so he slammed into the black cat once more, which earned him a bat from the big male's paw.

The spotted female moved in to press the attack. And was met with the imposing form of the larger black jaguar. There was a blur of action, snarls, claws and fangs flashed, slashed and fur flew.

The wolf gained his feet and scooted away. He turned back in time to see the female sink her fangs into the male's neck. Something made the young wolf dash back and bite her hind leg.

She released the male to attack the wolf and the black jaguar grabbed her. It wasn't a good hold. He'd gotten her by the scruff of her neck and was holding onto a mouthful of loose skin. She hissed and yowled, her daggered paws reaching in and raking the big male. The black got his shots in too, but was slowed by his previous injuries.

The young wolf was familiar with this form of assault from hunting with a pack, and he pulled backwards with all his strength and held on. Stretched between the two males, she now couldn't really connect with either of them.

The female hissed and spat. Finally the black male released her and the young wolf followed suit, scurrying to get out of her way as she bolted into the depths of the blue jungle.

The big male dropped to the ground in a heap, unconscious.

After checking to see that the female had left the area, the young wolf trotted over to the fallen male and sniffed him over. He whined, uncertain what to do. They had worked together like pack mates to drive the spotted intruder off. Instinct won, for no wolf left his pack mate alone and injured.

He nuzzled the big cat, detecting new injuries and old. He had some scratches himself, but they weren't that bad. The young wolf lay down next to the big jaguar and began to lick the worst of the wounds.

Sometime later the cat woke up to the soothing strokes of the wolf's tongue. The young one glanced up from his self appointed task and panted a wolfish greeting before continuing.

The jaguar sniffed the wolf a few times and cautiously lapped at the first wound he found. Soon both were engrossed in giving mutual aid. At one point, the big cat put a paw on the wolf's head and swiped his head once with a rough tongue before moving to the next gash.

The young one kept cleaning each wound, content in the knowledge that he was no longer a lone wolf.

XXXX

A panting, scraping sound roused the juvenile wolf from its light sleep and he sprang to his feet, seeking the source. It was the black jaguar. Its eyes were glazed and the scent of infection heavier in the air. It looked blurrily around and hissed weakly, as though it was seeing an enemy. The big head dropped back down and the cat's eyes closed once more.

The young wolf tested the air but couldn't make out any threat. The female jaguar was no longer in the area. Most likely she was off licking her wounds. A rumble in his belly let him know that it was time to leave and find food and water. He gave an uneasy whine. To get those things, he must leave his injured pack mate alone.

He whined again. It couldn't be helped, so he got up and nuzzled the cat to reassure it that he'd return. Though stiff and sore from yesterday's battle, he was able to trot off to begin his search.

The wolf's sharp nose brought him to a stream and he drank his fill. A movement on the bank near him alerted him to a swamp rat entering the water. In a heartbeat, he leapt into the stream and grabbed the large rat. A quick shake of his head snapped its spine. Happy with his catch, he darted back to the cat.

Upon his return, he dropped the rat near the jaguar's head. It looked up at him with dull eyes and ignored the proffered food. The wolf swiped the big head with quick, comforting lick. The cat reached up and started to lap the moisture from the adolescent's wet coat. Understanding what was needed, he moved obligingly so the thirsty cat could reach other parts of his soaked coat.

After a while, the cat stopped and sniffed the rat. It managed to eat a few bites before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep again.

The wolf gobbled up the rest of the big rat and lay down next to his ailing pack mate to lick the jaguar's wounds some more. When he was done, he curled up next to the big cat and dozed off.

XXXX

The young wolf heard the soft footsteps of something approaching. He got to his feet and peered about the undergrowth for the intruder. He hoped it wasn't the female coming back. The black cat –correction- his pack mate, was in no shape to help him battle her once more.

A spotted jaguar broke through partway the underbrush and stopped, surveying the scene. But this cat was male.

The young wolf swiftly moved in front of his downed companion -his pack of one. He barred his teeth and fluffed out his fur, doing his best to look as imposing as possible.

The spotted jaguar morphed into a human. He wore a colorful headdress of upright feathers and a cloth around his waist. Once completely in the clearing, the man stood silent and unmoving, holding his spear like a staff. He spoke without moving his lips. _"You have done your part, but it is too soon and you cannot stay. Do not worry; I will take care of him. Go, prepare. Only then will you be ready to help your sentinel."_

Confused, the young wolf turned to look at the black jaguar, only to see a crumpled form of a human male where his pack mate had been.

The blue jungle shifted and suddenly darkened around him and the young wolf howled in anguish at the loss.

XXXX

Jim woke to the sound of an echoing howl. The world around him was a melting green blur. He was so hot and thirsty; he dimly figured his fever had to be very high right now. A movement caught his attention and he watched as a spotted jaguar emerged from the foliage, morphed into a Chopec native and walked towards him.

Too sick to move, he did the only thing he could and passed out.

XXXX

Blair blinked and was wake, still sitting cross-legged on the mat inside the medicine teepee. His eyes darted about, the echoes of a forlorn howl ringing in his ears and the smell of burning sage tickling his nostrils.

Leaping Buck, the medicine man that had been his guide on this quest sat across from him, dark eyes piercing him as a thoughtful expression crossed the wizened face. The man blew a puff of smoke from his mouth and nodded in time to his inner thoughts.

Recalling Leaping Buck's words before he started his quest, Blair focused inward and breathed, struggling to contain and internalize his experience.

Sometime later there was a scratch at the door flap and his mother poked her head inside. At the medicine man's nod, she entered and made her way to his side. "Hey baby… how was your vision quest? Did you have a vision?" His mother sat beside him and brushed back a fallen, sweaty lock from his eyes. "Did you find out what your spirit animal was? Come, I want to hear all about it." She looked at him expectantly.

"Mom–" Seeing her slight grimace at that word, he rolled his eyes and started again. "Naomi, gimme a sec to process, okay? I just- I was there and now I'm here and I don't know where _there_ was… is... um, ah… Ya know? It was –it IS confusing. I was in a blue jungle… I was an animal of some kind. And there was this other animal and um, ah…I feel like I've lost something. Something important. Damn, this sucks! It's like… it's all gone now." He pounded a frustrated fist into the mat he was sitting on.

"Language dear, cursing is the crutch of the weak minded." She quoted as she put a comforting arm around his shoulders. "If it's meant to be, you'll remember it. You can always try again sometime."

The medicine man nodded in agreement.

Blair, still feeling strung out from his ordeal, buried the palms of his hands in his eyes. A single thought flashed sharply into focus in his brain and he jerked his hands down and looked to Leaping Buck for an answer to the question he was about to ask.

"What's a sentinel?"

**Fin**

Author Note: I totally fudged on the vision quest thing. I have no real idea on how they are conducted. All errors are mine and no disrespect to any culture or belief is intended.


End file.
